


A Lot More

by WhiteClifford



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:33:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteClifford/pseuds/WhiteClifford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Louis moves out and Harry doesn't know how to deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lot More

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my fic! Enjoy your stay!
> 
> Tumblr: stripedandbowtied

It’s months after Harry starts to notice the way his heart pounds and the way he spends entirely too much time staring at Louis’s lips, witnesses or not, that he realizes he’s in love with Louis.

At first, it really is that simple to him. He’s in love with Louis. 

But then everything he sees is a new reason not to be. The other boys, the fans, management, the fact that Louis has a girlfriend. Everything is a reason to repress his feelings, to try to get a good girlfriend and be straight, even though all it takes is for Louis to glance at him with those incredibly blue eyes for Harry to feel anything but. 

And so he doesn’t tell anyone, doesn’t do anything about it. It’s just some stupid teenage crush, he convinces himself. Until it isn’t, when Louis hugs him, and he can’t help wanting more, or when they sit next to each other in interviews, their legs touching from thighs to ankles and Harry wishes that they didn’t ever have to spend time apart.

It’s when Louis mentions he has a girlfriend that Harry can’t take it anymore. They’re all in the living room, a miraculously not empty pizza box on the table, a movie on the TV. Harry’s first action is to stand up, mumbling something about the bathroom. He leaves the room before the tears that are prickling at the corners of his eyes can fall. Once in the bathroom, he just stands by the sink, trying to shake himself out of it so that he can go back into the living room and be happy for his best friend. There’s a knock at the door before he can, and the door opens before he has time to move. Louis. He looks concerned, but there’s something else there, too, something new. 

He knows. Harry thinks, and that’s all he can really think, that and wishing Louis would pull him in for a tight hug, because he’s never needed Louis more, and at the same time, he’s never needed to be far away from him this much. Harry just put a smile on his face and pushed past Louis, giving some mumbled excuse he was sure Louis didn’t hear. Crisis averted.

______

It’s a few months later that Louis moves in with her, leaving their shared flat for a brand new flat in a different building. Harry smiles through the entire thing, even helps Louis out with choosing the flat and moving furniture with the other boys. Liam, of course, notices something is up, but Harry doesn’t allow himself to be cornered by the slightly older boy.

It’s only after everything is over that he breaks down crying on the floor of their kitchen. He hyperventilates for a few long minutes before he manages to calm down. He spends the night curled up there, not sleeping, and trying his best not to think. 

They have the week off work, so the next day he goes out early to a seedy looking bar he’s never even glanced twice at before. He orders a drink, and another, and another, even though it’s well before noon. He needs to be able to let go of things and not think.

He stumbles home at about 2:00 in the afternoon and falls straight asleep on the couch. The couch, not his room, because he’s afraid it might smell like Louis from the nights they spent cuddled there, discussing their life plans in whispers and laughing.

Harry’s back there again at midnight, and he orders more drinks than he does the last time. He’s not even sure how he ends up home, all he’s sure of is that he managed to forget Louis for a few hours.

He’s pretty sure that’s why he’s back the next day. Pretty sure, but not positive. 

Somehow he escapes only tipsy, and he spends the rest of the day crying. He isn’t sure why he’s reacting like this, all he really knows now is that Louis won’t ever be his and the thought fills him with enough tears that he really doesn’t care why he’s reacting like that. 

He sleeps until the next night, and wakes up and just goes straight to the bar, his eyes still rimmed in red. He spends the entire walk there convincing himself that he’s better off without Louis, maybe he could finally get over him now that they weren’t living together. 

He turns around and heads home, trying to keep that line of thinking and not get drunk. He manages most of the day, but by night he’s back, more agitated than ever. Maybe that’s why he gets into the fight that night. He doesn’t analyze it, just goes home and falls asleep on the couch again, because he’s still not sleeping in his bed. His last thought is that he’s better off without Louis.

It’s the next day that someone opens the door to the flat without knocking, and of course it’s Louis. Harry’s still asleep when he walks in and he winces when he sees his former flatmate’s bloody nose. When Harry wakes up to Louis wiping the dried blood off his face, he visibly startles and moves back away.

“What are you doing here?” he asks Louis. He hadn’t even known that Louis had kept his key.

“Is there something wrong with visiting my best mate?” Louis asked, and it warmed Harry’s chest a little to hear Louis refer to him as his best mate.

“No, but-” Harry pauses. “What are you _really_ doing here, Lou?” he asked tiredly. 

“I missed you,” Louis said, and Harry’s chest tightened. It was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to hear. 

“Missed you too, Lou,” Harry said, thinking, _more than you have know_.

“What happened to you?” Louis asked, and he didn’t have to specify what he meant.

“Got into a fight. It’s nothing, we were drunk,” Harry said truthfully.

“It _is_ something. You’ve never been in a drunken fight before, Haz. What’s going on?”

Harry isn’t sure if it’s the old nickname or the concern that’s heavily present in Louis’s words, but he breaks down crying, more than he has in the last week. Louis doesn’t ask what’s wrong again, just holds him for a bit until he stops.

“I missed you, Lou. More than you have any idea,” he just says when he’s finally done.

“I broke up with her,” Louis said suddenly. “That’s why I’m here. I broke up with her.”

“Why?” Harry’s too busy processing Louis’s words to elaborate his question. 

Louis avoided Harry’s eyes and shrugged. “It just wasn’t right. I didn’t feel the same way.”

“Really?” Harry said, more than a little distracted. 

“Yes,” Louis said very softly, and Harry looked up, just in time to see Louis’s lips crash into his.

Their kiss feels more amazing than he ever imagined, and he never wants to pull away, except he sort of has to, because, well, oxygen. 

When they finally do, they’re both grinning, and there’s no question anymore. They have each other, and that’s a heck of a lot more than most people get.


End file.
